


Think Of Me When You Cross The Line

by drunkhoechlinishot



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula 2 RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Shirtgate, Smut, So much smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkhoechlinishot/pseuds/drunkhoechlinishot
Summary: Callum knows there are many things they teach you at the Ferrari Driver Academy. The history of the team, the rules of racing and the legal aspects of motor sport. What they don’t teach you, is how to cope with the massive highs and swooping lows that come with the job. They also miss out the part where they tell you it’s a bad idea to fall for your nearest rival.
Relationships: Callum Ilott/Mick Schumacher
Comments: 8
Kudos: 86





	Think Of Me When You Cross The Line

**Author's Note:**

> My 1st Schulott fic. It’s a bit filthy! 😍
> 
> *minor edits 30/01/21*

Callum knows there are many things they teach you at the Ferrari Driver Academy. The history of the team, the rules of racing and the legal aspects of motor sport. What they don’t teach you, is how to cope with the massive highs and swooping lows that come with the job. They also miss out the part where they tell you it’s a bad idea to fall for your nearest rival.

🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁 🏁

He’d joined the FDA in 2017. An indicator to the watching world that he had promise and talent in equal measure. Not too shabby for a skinny boy from Cambridge.

3 years in F3, before going between F2 and GP3 should be a good starting point for anybody. But the pandemic had thrown so much up in the air. At least they were getting a 2020 season, at the start of the year it didn’t even look like a remote possibility. The season had such uncertainty about it, so much that it felt like anything could happen. Good or bad.

The first feature race in Austria couldn’t have went any better. The opening weekend of the season, and he had a victory under his belt. The following week he placed 5th in both the sprint and feature races.

Budapest saw him return to the podium with a second place. Just behind winner Robert, who’d got off to a flying start this year, while Mick came home third. As they came off the podium and headed back to the paddock he and Mick were feeling jubilant. What a great experience to be up there with two FDA friends.

It appeared that Mick was of the same opinion as he followed him back to his driver’s room. Callum went to the small fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. He handed one to Mick, who promptly dropped his to the floor.

Callum had very little warning before Mick was crowding him against the wall. The German bit his own lip as he looked at Callum’s mouth. The next thing Callum knew, he was being pulled into a passionate kiss. Callum responded with a moan as their tongues met and wrestled for dominance. They continued exploring each other’s mouths until they both parted, chests heaving, breathless.

As Callum tried to catch his breath, Mick wasted no time unzipping his friend’s race suit. Mick looked to Callum as if asking him for permission. Callum could only pull the other towards him for another kiss in response. This time as they kissed, Mick’s hands wandered to the developing bulge at Callum’s crotch. Again, Callum could do nothing but moan.

Mick’s hand snaked under the waistband of his fireproofs and underwear. Grabbing his rapidly hardening dick and wrapping his fingers around him. He felt so turned on, he was utterly helpless. Mick set a pace so fast Callum knew he wouldn’t last long. After a short time Callum could hold back no longer and came so hard he was seeing stars.

Mick’s eyes, usually ice blue were as dark as the midnight sky, as he looked to the mess that Callum had left in his hand. He unzipped his own race suit before jacking himself off furiously, using Callum’s come to ease the way.

Feeling weak at the knees, and leaning against the wall for grim death, Callum pulled Mick towards him biting his collarbone through his fireproofs. That was enough to push Mick over the edge and he came with a roar that almost brought Callum’s spent cock back to life.

They shared a softer kiss, but there wasn’t much time for afterglow. A commotion outside led to them jumping apart. Mick wiping his soiled hand on a nearby towel, before the two quickly pulled their clothes back to some kind of respectability.

As the PR knocked and entered the room it was as if a switch seemed to be flicked. Mick stood with the previously dropped water bottle in his hand taking small sips. Looking ever the professional. Callum made a big deal of trying to look nonchalant. He knows he failed miserably. With a quick goodbye Mick left Callum’s room. Leaving him standing wondering... what the fuck just happened?

🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁

The first of a double header at Silverstone came a fortnight later. There had been some semblance of communication between the two, but only on the FDA WhatsApp group. There was no way Callum was going to make a tit of himself by bringing up what had happened. He had his pride. He just put it down to letting off steam and an adrenaline rush.

Callum’s first week at Silverstone is a bit average. Despite qualifying P2 he had to start in the pit lane for the feature race, he ended P5 which he felt was all he could’ve done. He’d barely saw Mick the whole weekend, so he tried not to give it much thought. The only problem was...that it was all he could think about. He’d never jacked off so much in his life - as he did to the memory of what him and Mick had done.

Silverstone 2.0 on the other hand, was a great one for Callum. Winning the feature race from pole. Despite the blistering temperatures it was so very sweet. But he couldn’t help but think the victory at his home race was somewhat overshadowed - by the fact there was nobody in the crowd to cheer with him, as he lifted the trophy above his head.

He was however, surprised to see Mick at the end of the weekend. He’d managed to get to his room to “congratulate him.” Callum jumped ever so slightly in his chair clutching his winner’s trophy, trying to look cool. That went right out the window when Mick locked the door, and dropped to his knees at Callum’s feet. He was instantly at full mast.

“I’ve come to congratulate you”, said Mick sounding cool as you like.

“Lucky me”, replied Callum.

Callum’s race suit was only on from the waist down, already aiding Mick in his quest. As he started to pull the material down past Callum’s narrow hips the Brit seemed to get the message. Lifting his butt from the chair for a moment, to help Mick gain access.

With his suit somewhere around his ankles, Mick removed him from his other layers and got to work fast. Licking the tip before swallowing him down to the root. Fuck. Callum was lost. He tried his best, but he had started shallow thrusts into the delicious wet heat of Mick’s mouth.

He ran his hands through Mick’s hair to try and concentrate on something other than his own dick. But when it reached the back of his friend’s throat, he pulled Mick’s hair in reflex. That caused Mick to moan loudly around him, causing a sensation that Callum would never forget. Taking that as his cue he pulled harder on Mick’s short blonde mane and thrust into his mouth in perfect counterpoint.

Within seconds Callum was biting his hand to muffle the sound of his release. Mick, ever the dedicated party, continued to work Callum over with his perfect mouth, until his body jerked with over-sensitivity.

As his cock throbbed one last time Callum made to get off the chair and join Mick on the floor. It was his turn to get Mick off. He could do that.

“It’s okay. It was too hot. You pulled my hair and I had to touch myself”, he said by way of explanation. Callum looks and sees ropes of come all over the horrible carpet tiles. Well, shit. Why does Mick think he can get away with being so fucking dirty?

“Next time you win, I want you to fuck me!”

Nope. Callum was wrong. Just when he thinks there are no more surprises, Mick goes and says something like that. Dirty bastard. Again his dick twitches at the thought.

“Extra incentive for me then.”

Mick smiles, nods and gets up off the floor. Callum pulls him in for a heated kiss. He can taste his own come on Mick’s lips, and okay, now he is ready to go again.

“Until next time”, Mick says with a knowing look, as he makes his way to the door. He winks at Callum before leaving. Callum quickly remembers to wipe Mick’s come from the floor, before collapsing in a heap in his chair. What the actual fuck?

The following week sees the show roll in to Barcelona. Callum does well enough to make pole, but with things not quite working out with pit stops and tyre wear he ends up P5, Mick right behind him P6. Mick was P3 in the sprint race and Callum figures, what the hell they’re “Podium sex buddies™️” He may as well help Mick celebrate his place. Right?

Being in the FDA has some perks. Like being welcomed into most of the Ferrari feeder teams, like PREMA without many people batting an eyelid.

Callum stops to have a quick chat to Robert. His nearest current rival in the championship. But all the same, they are good buddies. After a few minutes he hears someone shout his name. He turns to see Mick waving him over to “borrow something.” He leaves Robert with a slap on the shoulder and makes his way to Mick’s drivers room.

Mick already seems lust drunk, if his dark navy eyes are anything to go by.

“Great minds think alike. I was just going to come and find you.”

“Now you’re just going to come!”, says Callum, with absolutely no game, but unable to resist a corny line. Mick rolls his eyes and pulls Callum towards him. Their mouths on one another in an instant. The paddock is still lively outside, so they need to be quick. Callum is already wearing shorts, and a T-shirt, and again, great minds think alike. But, Mick is wearing a denim pair with a belt.

Callum takes the lead and makes quick work of the belt, opening Mick’s shorts and finding him half way to hard. He pushes his own shorts down. Mick grinning at the fact he’s went commando. Callum licks his palm and wraps his hand around both of them. It’s a tight squeeze covering the two of them as he grinds their cocks together.

The noises that Mick makes aren’t helping Callum, his stamina is almost ruined. In retaliation he pulls Mick’s hair, remembering how much he got off on it the last time. Boy was that the wrong idea, his head hits the wall with a dull thud and he moans deeply. If Mick isn’t quiet they’re going to get found out. So he decides the best course of action is to cover Mick’s mouth with his free hand. Impossibly, Mick’s eyes darken further.

With Mick’s moans now hushed Callum increases his efforts. He’s unable to look away from Mick’s eyes as their dicks slide against one another between his long fingers, fast and furious. He feels his chest fucking pounding as they both spill into his hand in perfect sync.

Mick is wobbly and panting as Callum puts him back in his underwear and shorts, before doing up his belt. Callum isn’t much better off as he pulls up his own shorts. Callum then takes Mick over to the couch, before he falls down. He strokes the side of his face, which Mick leans into as he tries to recover.

The pounding in Callum’s chest continues and is accompanied by a swooping feeling low in his belly. Shit he needs to get out of here now. By the time he leaves, Mick is almost asleep. He kisses him on forehead and makes his way to the door.

“Thank you”, says Mick in a tiny voice. It doesn’t make Callum’s heart swell in his chest. What? It doesn’t.

That night Callum sits in bed and is thinking about things. He’s just watched some gay porn for the first time. It didn’t do that much for him if he’s honest. Although in saying that, he did think about Mick when he watched it. He’s decided he’s not gay, he’s just super gay for Mick.

  
Spa is an utter disaster for Callum he has a crash on the opening lap in the sprint race. He can only manage a lowly P10 in the feature race. He’s really not feeling like seeking out playtime with Mick, who managed P2 in the sprint and P3 in the feature race. He gets the fuck out as fast as his feet can carry him.

He’s been lying on his bed moping for the last 2 hours. His phone has buzzed a couple of times, but he can’t bring himself to check it. As he huffs out an uneasy breath there’s a knock at the door. He tries to ignore it, but they keep knocking on the door, and it’s pretty much ruining his self-pity party.

He’s not even surprised to see Mick. But he finds he’s happy it is him. He stands aside and Mick enters as he closes the room door.

“I thought I might see you after the races”, the way he says it sounds like a question.

“Sorry...didn’t feel much like doing anything.” Mick steps over to him cupping his face. “You’re allowed to be upset for having a bad day you know?”

“I know, I just don’t know if I’ll be good company.” Mick nods in understanding, most drivers have had at least one day like this.

“Why don’t we just cuddle?”, asks Mick seeming hopeful.

“Yeah...okay”, Callum says feeling a bit better than he has in the last few hours. Mick lies on the bed and pats the empty space beside him. Callum lies down, and his head is manhandled onto Mick’s chest. Now, head lying over Mick’s heart, he can hear the steady pounding of the beat and it seems to ground him. Mick starts stroking his hair and shit, it feels so nice he could almost weep.

The two of them must drift off, as it’s dark when Callum stirs. He’s been drooling a bit on Mick’s shirt.

“Hey...you feeling better yet?”, asks Mick. “A bit...thanks.”

He lifts his head and Mick looks back at him a soft smile on his face. “Take off your shirt”, says Mick. “I want to make you feel better.” Right now Callum thinks an orgasm might make him feel better, so he removes his shirt without hesitation. The two share a slow kiss before Callum tries to pull Mick’s shirt off.

“It’s not quite what I had in mind”, says Mick.

“It’ll help me feel better”, replies Callum deciding to milk this a bit.

“Oh well...in that case-“ He promptly whips his shirt off and throws it dramatically with a giggle. God Callum loves that sound.

“On your front”, Mick almost pushes him til he’s face down. He then whips Callum’s shorts off and throws them into oblivion with the rest of their clothing. Callum is left completely bare. He arches to see Mick produce a small bottle from his pocket. Well, this is a thing that is happening! He’s actually okay with it. Only it isn’t quite what he thinks...well not yet.

He hears the cap of the bottle as it is opened and Mick drizzles...oil on his back, then his arms, finally his legs. It’s freezing and he jumps slightly as it hits his skin.

“Sorry...should’ve warned you.” The bottle is discarded as Mick places his hands on his back, and starts to massage the tight knots in his skin.

Mick’s hands are surprisingly soft and he seems as though he knows what he’s doing. Callum is enjoying this - he’s not going to question anything. He didn’t even realise how much tension he was holding in his shoulders until Mick started rubbing it away. He knows this time it’s him making the noises. But fuck, it feels amazing.

Mick moves to his arms and hands. Callum amazed that having the palms of his hands worked on can feel so good. Mick then moves down to his legs. He’s glad he isn’t ticklish as Mick rubs the soles of his feet. Moving up to his calves and thighs, his body feels so loose.

Which is probably why he barely notices when Mick starts massaging the globes of his arse. He supposes his butt can hold tension as well. Those seats in the cockpit are not comfortable. Mick’s really kneading his flesh now and Callum’s dick has joined the party, hard beneath him.

Mick fetches the bottle from beside Callum. This time he parts Callum’s bum cheeks and drizzles more of the oil. He feels it land on his hole. His dick throbs in response. That’s nothing as Mick then runs his finger along his crack, spreading the massage oil. Mick begins to probe his hole gently. Once. Twice. Three times. Oh fuck he’s going to die.

No, no he’s not. Mick is now licking his hole and shitting hell...now he’s about to expire. Mick continues tonguing him where he’s so sensitive. His dick is so very hard.

“Turn over”, says Mick - as if he’s not just made Callum a blabbering wreck. Mick helps Callum, who’s so relaxed he feels boneless. As he lays on his back his leaking dick slaps onto his belly. Mick shows no mercy and starts with his chest. Callum didn’t even know he had sensitive nipples until Mick started playing with them.

Fuck, his dick is so hard, he’s pretty sure it’s gonna fall off. Mick then starts to rub his scalp. From where he is, below Mick, he can see he is affected similarly.

“Let me suck you off”, Callum says as Mick gasps.

“I... I didn’t think you would want that!”

It seems he can cause a few surprises himself. Callum reaches up to feel Mick through his shorts.

“You know this would be easier if you took them off.”

Mick huffs “that wasn’t my plan.” Callum tries his best to look like a kicked puppy. Not an easy feat when you’re lying there bollock naked, with a dick hard enough to drill for diamonds. It seems to do the trick though, as Mick shuffles out of his shorts.

It occurs to Callum this is the first time they’ve seen each other completely naked. It’s totally fucking hot. Mick walks on his knees, now kneeling beside Callum, who turns and takes Mick in his hand, giving him a firm stroke before sucking him into his mouth.

Mick moans before muttering something in German. It’s the first time Callum has sucked a dick, but he finds he doesn’t dislike it. He splutters a little as Mick begins thrusting shallow strokes into his mouth. Mick apologises as Callum pulls off to give him a few more tugs before plunging him back into his mouth. He’s nothing if not dedicated.

This time he’s ready as Mick thrusts again. God, Callum can understand why some guys love doing this. Yep he’s totally gay for Mick. He’s made his peace with it. Mick’s moans are getting louder and his thrusting more erratic. Callum doesn’t know if he wants come in his mouth. But then he remembers the come-fuelled kiss they shared back in Silverstone, how hot it was. So he decides to keep Mick right where he is.

When Mick comes he’s almost silent. Until he starts with the German again. Callum tries as best he can to swallow down all he gives him. It’s not so bad. As Mick begins to recover, Callum grabs his neglected dick.

“That’s my job”, says Mick sounding jealous, batting his hand away.

Mick moves to position himself between Callum’s legs. He lifts one leg over his shoulder before sucking down his cock. And oh shit, Callum almost forgot how perfect that mouth was. As Mick works him with his tongue and wet lips, Callum thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

But then Mick does what he does best, and surprises him. This time, he presses a finger into his recently licked asshole - and Callum comes like a train.

He must black out. When he comes back to himself Mick is looking down at him, smirking. “Hopefully that has given you some incentive for next week.” Callum laughs, “sure has.”

He pulls Mick down beside him, and this time he rests his head on Callum’s chest.

They don’t talk about it, but they don’t want to get caught. And they know the chances of that are higher the longer they lie here on the bed.

Mick kisses Callum one last time before he leaves with the parting words: “think of me when you cross the line.”

Callum feels those butterflies in his stomach that he’s been denying for too long. But he also feels lighter, and motivated for the following week.

He qualifies on pole for the feature race. There had been a bad moment when he watched Mick put his car into the barrier during qualifying and his heart was in his mouth, til he realised he was okay. Mick the big show off, wins the feature race. Callum comes home P6.

There is some consolation for Callum as he wins the sprint race, Mick P3. As they stand on the podium Mick whispers in his ear “I haven’t forgotten.”

Callum wonders if anyone has ever died of a heart attack on the podium before. Mick continues “my room...later.”

And there pops his boner, which he has to try and shield from public view by holding his trophy in front of. He’s thought it before, but Mick is gonna be the death of him. He gulps down some champagne to settle his nerves.

**Room 420 😉**

The irony is not lost on Callum. He takes too long deciding what to wear, but opts for a soft heather grey T-shirt and a decent pair of black skinny jeans. He almost dabs on a spot of aftershave but decides against it.

His heart thumps loudly, in both his chest and his ears. Mick answers the door instantly and shepherds Callum into the room. While Mick is distracted with closing the door, Callum comes up behind him and presses against him. Mick gasps and tries to rub himself on Callum’s crotch. His arse grinding against his erection. He can only groan in Mick’s ear in reply.

Eager to move things along Mick manages to turn around and face Callum. Their faces surge together and their lips finally meet. It gets heated very quickly, Callum pressing his thigh between Mick’s legs and rubbing against his hard-on.

Mick pulls his mouth away from his to moan. That noise, as always, goes straight to his dick. Happy that the formalities have been covered, Mick gives Callum a shove and then another as he pushes him playfully towards the bed. Callum lands on his back as Mick climbs into his lap. They share another few minutes of hard kissing as they grind together.

“You sure you want to do this?”, asks Mick. Callum nods, “more than you know.” Mick pulls Callum’s shirt over his head, and they’re off. Soon after, they’re both down to their underwear. Callum can see the wet spot on Mick’s tight shorts, which do nothing to hide his hardness.

Callum now looms over Mick as he slowly peels the offending item down Mick’s thighs. They share a laugh as Mick kicks them the rest of the way off then Callum throws his own off too. He gives a few strong pulls on Mick’s cock before the younger parts his legs.

Callum knows he must look lost as Mick gives him a sweet look. He produces a bottle of lube from somewhere and squirts some on Callum’s shaky fingers. He’s done his research, he knows what to do. He realises he must seem hesitant, as Mick takes his hand and guides it to where he wants it.

They take it slow until Callum gets the hang of it. Judging by the noises Mick is making - it feels good. He works up from one finger to two. He can’t believe how much he wants to get Mick off. He crooks his fingers a bit and Mick almost jumps off the bed as he grazes his prostate. “That’s not fair!”, he moans. Callum pleased he’s doing well, continues until he has three of his long fingers inside Mick’s ass.

“Okay...come on...enough...I need you in me now.” How could Callum forget how filthy the German is. Mick takes a condom and rolls it over his cock, before coating him in a generous smear of lube.

“Go slow”, Mick whispers as he helps Callum line himself up.

Callum pushes in ever so slightly as he enters Mick. Holy fuck. He looks down at Mick, who’s just as gone as he is. He waits a moment, hoping he won’t come instantly, before Mick nods and he pushes in a bit further. They moan in unison as Callum slides home.

He’s never known anything to feel as good as the tight, warm welcoming heat of Mick. He gives a few shallow thrusts of his hips. Oh shit. He’s barely holding it together. Mick pulls him down for a kiss which distracts him for a few seconds. They then thrust and grind in equal measure as they both chase their release.

Mick must be close, as he’s fisting his wet cock in his hand like there’s no tomorrow. He feels Mick tighten around his dick “now, that’s not fair”, he manages to breathe out. He reaches up and pulls Mick’s hair in revenge. Mick immediately becomes impossibly tight around him, as his cock erupts with jets of come splashing over his belly. Callum then falls over the cliff himself as he starts coming with an obscene noise.

Mick pulls him down and kisses him slow and dirty. Come trapped between them. Afterwards, Callum then pulls out and gingerly makes his way to the bathroom. He disposes of the used condom, wets a cloth and returns to Mick. Callum gets caught admiring the view as Mick turns to look at him. They share a look, but don’t speak, before Callum wipes the drying come from Mick’s stomach. He looks so innocent as he lets Callum clean him up. They both know he is far from innocent.

The air con must’ve kicked in, as the room becomes a bit chilly. So they snuggle under the covers looking at each other in awe.

Until Mick speaks, “ God, you were amazing.” Callum feels his chest swell with pride.

“No...you were”, he returns the compliment.

After a short few minutes they’re kissing again. Callum wants to go again, his dick definitely does, but he’s not going to push his luck. The decision is made for him though when Mick reaches over for another condom and rolls it on him swiftly. He lubes up his fingers and reaches back behind himself. Callum’s dick throbs as he realises Mick is fingering his own hole. Christ he’d like to see that one day. All too quickly Mick is sinking down on him, til Callum is buried inside him.

He definitely enjoys this position as he can marvel at the sight, and watch Mick rise up on his strong thighs, before sliding back down, working himself on Callum’s aching cock. Callum manages to pump his hips up to meet him for a few quick minutes. And fuck everything that he’s ever known because Mick comes untouched all over Callum, reaching as far as his chest. Callum comes so hard he almost brains himself on the headboard. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever been witness to and Schumacher is still a dirty bastard.

Again they part before the sun comes up. This time Callum making the walk of shame. He couldn’t give less of a shit. He’s out like a light when his head hits his pillow. He dreams of blue eyes.

🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁

Mugello is not great, a P6 and a P12. This means Mick passes him in the standings. He’s thinking of a couple of missed chances and dreadful luck. But when he sees how happy Mick is, he feels less upset. This shit is starting to get deep now.

Mick texts him to meet up a few streets away from his hotel. When he gets there he sees Mick standing in that baby pink hoodie that makes his heart skip a beat. It somehow makes his eyes look bluer, and his hair look blonder, having removed the red hat that seems glued to his head sometimes.

They take a walk through the town, when Callum suggests they get something to eat. Of course Mick is instantly recognisable in Italy, so he’s not keen to sit in a restaurant. But the perfect opportunity presents itself when they turn a corner and Callum points to the hole in the wall pizzeria. Mick nods his agreement and hangs back as Callum places their order using perfect Italian.

It’s the middle of September so the temperatures are pleasant. They join a number of others, sitting on the grass in the grounds of a nearby park. The pizza is greasy but totally delicious. They wash the food down with a couple of full sugar Cokes. Callum feeling a sense of accomplishment at managing to get Mick to veer from his strict diet.

As they sit and relax, they note the different groups of people around them. There are some young adults drinking wine and laughing at the top of their lungs. A gang of boys playing football for fun, and couples - young and old walking hand in hand.

Mick’s phone goes. It’s his mum. She’s sent a picture of Angie. Mick tells Callum she does this most days - so he can keep track of his beloved dog, and feel closer to her. Callum in turn shows off his dog, Poppy. The two then spend some time chatting about the upcoming break and the possibility of practice sessions towards the end of the F1 season. Callum comes to the realisation - they’re on a date!

As the light begins to fade they start to make their way back to their respective hotels. Seeking a chance for some intimacy Callum drags Mick over to the trees and pushes him up against one before pressing their mouths together. They quickly forget about their surroundings until a football batters off the other side of their tree, bringing them back to reality.

They separate from each other and Callum kicks the ball back to the boys he’d seen with it earlier. They walk together through the beautiful grounds for a bit before Mick takes Callum’s hand in his own. They steal a glance at each other before walking on. As they get to the park gates Mick lets go and they slow as they get to the street their hotels are both on.

Callum decides to up the ante as he stands with Mick outside the German’s hotel.

“I think...next time you win...I want you...to fuck me.” He waits until he sees Micks jaw drop to the floor, before he heads in the direction of his own hotel. He doesn’t look back.

Sochi sees Mick win the feature race. So Callum knows he definitely likes a bit of incentive himself. The Brit is 3rd behind Guanyu. Mick is also 3rd in the sprint race. Because he’s an overachieving bastard, Callum figures he owes his boyfriend two rounds. Wait...boyfriend. He supposes so.

This time Mick arrives at Callum’s room, hair still wet. He looks good enough to eat. Callum is quick to pin him to the bed and go down on him. He works Mick over with his mouth for a few minutes before he pulls off. “I really want you to fuck me.”

The groan that leaves Mick’s mouth of course goes straight to his dick. Mick turns Callum so he’s lying on his front. He wastes no time parting his bum cheeks and lubing his hole up. Before he knows it he has two fingers in his ass.

“Want to see you”, he whines. Mick eventually helps him turn onto his back before placing a pillow under Callum’s hips. He then pushes Callum’s knees towards his chest as he gets back to work, now using his tongue and his fingers to open him up. The sight burned on his brain forever.

After either too long or not long enough Mick looks up seeming pleased. “Ready?”, he whispers. “Oh God yes!”, he says hearing how desperate he already sounds. Mick suits up and smears more lube to Callum’s ass. He feels Mick’s blunt head resting at his entrance. He bites his lip as he looks up at Mick so very ready to do this.

When Mick eases in it takes his breath away. Ever patient Mick waits for Callum to adjust to the new sensation. He is slow and shallow inside him to start with, as he lets Callum feel how good it is. After a bit of grinding he takes Mick deeper, much to his pleasure, as he hears him swear in German.

Mick is now pumping into him faster and harder. Callum is getting close, he feels so full - but it’s so fucking good! Mick must be telepathic as he manages to stroke Callum’s leaking dick in time to the action of his hips. He then hits the right spot bang on, as Callum feels an intense need to come.

From there Mick continues to nail his prostate on every thrust. Callum is done for as he looks at those deep blue eyes studying him. He comes, clutching Mick’s arse, with his pulse roaring in his ears and mouth open, gasping for breath. A perfect storm.

“Oh thank fuck”, Mick cries out, as he thrusts unsteadily another twice before coming hard inside Callum. He can feel Mick twitching inside him. Mick is not his usual graceful self as he collapses onto Callum. Their mouths finding each other for breathless, clumsy kisses.

“Fuck”, says Callum sounding as wrecked as he feels. “I know!”, Mick says in reply. Mick pulls out as Callum winces a bit. He rolls over and tears off the soiled condom. Dropping it to the floor. Very un-Mick like.

After a short recovery period Mick then rides Callum fast and hard, like his life depends on it. Callum jacking him off furiously. They come together, mouths fused with wet kisses.

After showering they part with some degree of uncertainty where the rest of the year will take them, but promise that no matter what happens, they will remain professional on track.

🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁🏁

The two months between Sochi and Sakhir are made easier with the knowledge that he gets to drive the Haas F1 car in FP1 at the Eiffel Grand Prix. The German weather however, has other ideas. He’s a bit heartbroken (nearly cries), but nobody ever said life was supposed to be easy. He saw Mick, all be it very briefly. It is insane, the amount of work that was expected of them even though they didn’t get the drive.

He’s just about to call a taxi to the airport when a flashy car pulls up beside him “Get in loser”, says Mick. Callum laughs at the nerd and gets into the passenger seat. Mick has rattled off a text as he fastens his seatbelt, then they’re quickly on the road.

They chat comfortably as Mick drives for an hour before pulling up at a small cottage. He looks at his phone and then enters numbers into a keypad on the door, before entering and pulling Callum in with him.

Turns out Schumacher is Mr Organised™️, this is an Airbnb and it’s theirs for the night. They kiss and fuck in every room and on nearly every surface til they are exhausted, almost raw. Callum has come so much he’s worried about his balls drying up. Mick laughs as he tells him so.

That night they don’t have to worry about being caught. They lay in each other’s arms sleepily. It’s the perfect gift after the disappointment of not getting the drive in the F1 car.

The morning after the sex is different, they go slow until they both come apart. Later, Mick drives Callum to the airport. Both of their bodies aching, deliciously sore. The two share a tender kiss before they part. It’s only a few weeks until they’ll see each other again.

Callum misses racing badly, but he misses Mick like his fucking arm has been cut off. Callum spends equal amounts of time between working out rigorously and in the Sim. During the first couple of weeks he and Mick text quite a bit.

Mick sent a picture of him and Angie walking in the Swiss mountains. Fuck the scenery, Callum has never felt as jealous of a dog in his life. In return Callum sends him a picture from the gym. Sweaty body and all. Mick goes one further and sends him a topless selfie. He’s looking toned, tanned and utterly breathtaking, whilst wearing that damn red cap, backwards.

A few nights later he’s bold enough to send Mick a dick pic. It’s not explicit. He’s wearing sweatpants, but he thinks his bulge looks quite impressive. Mick of course never to be outdone sends him a picture. Jesus. He chokes on his own spit:

**Look what you do to me...**

As he swipes - the picture shows Mick from the waist up. Ropes of come painting his belly. Almost reaching his chest. He nearly drops his phone on his head.

After that, phone sex and sexting become a part of this thing they have. It’s a shame he’s not in his own place. He’s sharing with Marcus. A bit more privacy and he doesn’t think he’d move from his room ever again. But the Kiwi allows him his space and for that he is thankful.

He gets the call from Günther as he’s doing laundry. It’s not the call he wanted. He’s “very fooking sorry”, but they’re not going to sign him for the forthcoming season. He was really optimistic that Haas would be impressed with his form this year. Obviously, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He knew earlier in the season the Alfa Romeo seat was perhaps an outside chance. But Antonio was now staying on with Kimi, who just seemed to go on and on like the Duracell bunny.

Devastation burns a hole in his gut, it looks like there will be no F1 for him next year. It squirms like a snake swirling in his stomach.

He resolves to try and work it right up Günther and the Haas team in Bahrain - by trying to catch up to Mick in the standings.

In the sprint race he’s a bit too much in his own head. Poor tyre wear and pit stops combined with traffic sees him finish a lowly P16. Mick manages P7. Callum gives himself a serious shake, and after a hard fight he’s 2nd in the feature race. Take that you fuckers!

He knows things are ramping up for Mick, he’s all but guaranteed a Haas car for F1 next year. He’s genuinely happy for him. He’s just devastated he won’t be across the garage as his teammate.

That week they have to make do with rushed hand jobs in Mick’s hotel room, having found 10 minutes to themselves. Mick seems quiet and a bit distracted, and Callum knows he’s not much better off. But he puts it down to the pressure of title race, and the thought of possible contracts to be signed.

The official announcement was made in-between the two Bahrain weekends. Callum was tying his laces as his phone sounded with the F1 alert. He had to read it three times. And even then, he thought it was a bad joke. But it was December, it wasn’t April Fool’s Day. Of all the people to get the other Haas job it had to be that prick?

He decides to skip breakfast. There’s no way he could eat, as he feels the bile rise in his stomach. He makes his way down to the lobby. Robert and Marcus are standing chatting, their conversation stopping when Robert spots Callum. He knows he can’t avoid them forever, so he walks over to join them.

Robert is the first to speak “I’m sorry, man, what a load of bullshit!” Marcus joins in “you know it’s a money thing right?”, he looks around the hotel lobby then adds “fuck Günther Steiner!”

Callum manages a watery laugh. He nods, too frightened to talk, in case he breaks down in front of them. He spots Mick talking to his PR over Robert’s shoulder. Mick looks up and that thing in his chest comes to life. But Mick gives him a look he doesn’t recognise. He’s known Mick for a few years. He doesn’t know that expression, or what the fuck it means.

“You headed for a walk?...we could come with you”, offers Marcus trying to be supportive. “ I just wanna be by myself guys”, he says and turns to leave. But not before Robert touches him on the arm and says “you know where we are man, if you need to talk.”

It’s all he can do not to fall to his knees and drum his fists off the floor. He nods and heads for the door. The heat of the Bahraini sun welcoming him for a walk, who knows where. After around 10 minutes his phone goes. His PR. Yeah he’s not going to answer that one.

Finding a lush green park dotted with fountains and palm trees, he sits on a bench and opens a text to Mick - he has a suspicion now:

**Did you know?**

The reply comes quickly.

**_Yes_ **

To be honest he has no idea what to do with that information. So he sits under the shade of a palm tree, and tries to work things out for himself.

He supposes he’s not innocent here either. He knew that Haas seat wasn’t going to be his a week or two ago, and he hadn’t told Mick. He didn’t want to be looked at with pity. He also didn’t want Mick to feel guilty that he had that other seat.

Yuki has now been confirmed for Alpha Tauri. He’s genuinely happy for the little pocket rocket. He thinks he and Pierre will fit well together.

He was due to drive for Alfa Romeo in the Young driver’s test in Abu Dhabi. But that would seem where his chance would end. He realises now it’s a poor consolation prize. Hey Callum! Here’s what you could’ve won!

That Haas seat had seemed like a real possibility. He’s had a couple of weeks to think about it. He’d have relished a shot working alongside Mick, they could’ve been a formidable duo. He knows they would’ve pushed each other on and off track.

But him? Of all the other drivers...they went with him? His driving standards are appalling. Callum knows that first hand. Not to mention he’s a racist, homophobic vile piece of shit. He’s fearful for Mick now, having to work alongside him.

He knows Marcus is right. It is a money thing. The business is still so corrupt, that people can buy themselves an F1 seat if they can afford it (Ahem, Stroll!). Talent it seems isn’t everything.

Before he spirals further his phone goes - his mum. He knows better than to ignore her call.

“Hi mum!”  
“Hiya son...you okay out there?”, she asks.  
“Yeah mum, I’m doing okay.”  
“Listen you can tell me to shut up, but I want you to know that me and your dad are here if you need us. Day or night. It doesn’t matter if it’s big or small.”  
Great now he’s gonna cry in public. “Thanks mum...I know”, he can hear the wobble in his own voice.  
“No matter what happens we’re both so proud of you. We love you so much.”  
“Love you too”, he croaks out. “Gotta go...I’ve got a meeting to get to”, he can’t believe he’s fucking lying to his mum. One fat tear rolls down his cheek.  
“I mean it Callum, you can call anytime.”  
“Thanks mum, love you. Speak soon, okay?”  
“Okay love, bye.”  
“Bye.”

Resigned to the fact that nothing he can do will change matters, he calls his PR. He wants to put out a statement but he doesn’t know how to word it. Together, they come up with a post for his Instagram feed which sounds more positive than he could muster on his own....

He tells the world; that he’d known for a few weeks already that there would be no F1 seat for him next year. He’s looking forward to 2022. There’s also the small matter of a championship to be won.

He returns to the hotel crushed, but what’s that famous saying? don’t let the bastards get you down. Yeah he’s using that as his mantra right now.

He hits the gym for a marathon session. Robert and Marcus joining him part of the way through. When they start carrying on and horsing around Callum realises he has some great buddies he can count on.

These past few weeks have hurt immensely, but what hurts him the most is the fact that he doesn’t see or hear from Mick. It adds salt to his ragged wounds. He tries to carry on as best he can...when inside he feels a bit broken.

He doesn’t know if he should go and find Mick, or if he should try and calm down. He decides on the latter. He doesn’t want to start a fight before the last race weekend. He needs to stay focused. After a day of high emotion he’s exhausted, and sleeps well all things considered.

The next day he’s in the Alfa Romeo garage for his seat fit for Abu Dhabi. He catches a glimpse of Mick as he heads next door to Haas, he imagines for something similar.

Done for the day, he’s changing out of his suit, when the F1 alert sounds. Shit what now? Mick is confirmed at Haas. Like it was a surprise! He sounds bitter in his own head. But he’s genuinely happy for the man he loves... Oh...Shit.

So, he’s in love. With his title rival. He’s never been in love before. Maybe that’s why he didn’t know. But here he is. Well, isn’t that a turn up for the books? He texts Mick immediately:

**Congratulations. Really happy for you x**

It takes a couple of minutes but a reply comes:

**Thank you x**

Callum texts back:

**I miss you x**

**I miss you too x**

**Can I see you later? x**

**You can see me right now x**

Callum looks up confused, and sees Mick standing outside the Alfa garage. His heart leaps in his chest as he looks at the man he loves. He can’t help but smile widely. Mick smiles back showing those dimples that he loves, and Callum goes to him.

“Congratulations Mick, you really deserve it, you’ve worked so hard.”

“Thank you Callum, that means a lot.”

There is a bit of tension as they begin to walk through the paddock. He wants to pull Mick into his arms and kiss him hard. Tell him he’s proud. He wants to tell him that he loves him. But maybe not here.

“Do you want to come to my room?”, Callum asks. “Yes, I’d like that”, he replies.

When they get to his hotel room Mick tries to jump him. But Callum needs to get a few things off his chest. “I want to talk...first.” He takes Mick’s hand. Here goes.

“I knew Haas didn’t want me. I knew a few weeks ago...I knew they would come for you. They’d be crazy not to. I am so happy for you. I really am.”

Mick’s cheeks are pink as he continues: “I’m upset about you know who...I’m upset they chose him... I’m upset you knew and didn’t tell me. I-“

Mick interrupts him “you know I couldn’t tell you Callum. I didn’t know how. How could I? I didn’t want to make you sad or angry-“

“I’m mostly angry that the man I love has to work with that homophobic piece of shit!”

Mick looks as though he’s just been slapped. He pulls his hand from Callum’s as if it’s on fire. “I have to go.”

“Wait can’t you-“, Mick is up and out the room before Callum knows what’s happened...Oh shit he just presented Mick with his heart, and he fucking stamped all over it. His rejection is now complete.

Feeling like a total loser, and not knowing what else to do he calls his mum. He tells her he thinks he’s in love. She says that’s nice. He tells her he’s in love with another man. His mum, superstar that she is doesn’t even waiver, “I don’t care about that love.” He’s never loved her more.

He tells her he’s in love with Mick and her gasp is audible. “Oh love...that’s...oh that’s wonderful!” He tells her that he’s just told Mick and he’s ran out the room. “Oh son...I’m so sorry!”

She at least manages to sound a bit sympathetic, as he tells her the PG version of events. “Callum, if he doesn’t want you that’s his mistake. You are a wonderful man. Anyone would be lucky to have you. If he’s daft enough to let you go, then he’s not the man I thought he was.”

He tells his mum how low he’s been feeling. She listens as he spouts a load of verbal diarrhoea. He loves his mum. She should be a motivational speaker. At the end of the phone call he feels better. It really is good to talk about your feelings.

As he lies in bed he realises, he’s just came out to his mum. He falls asleep proud.

He doesn’t hear anything from Mick. In fact, he barely sees him either. He’s certain he’s avoiding him. Callum hits the gym hard it helps him get out his frustrations.

He hangs out with Robert and Marcus. He’s never been more grateful for that pair of idiots than he is right now. They go golfing, which ends in absolute carnage. Callum isn’t a great golfer but those numpties make him feel like Tiger fucking Woods. They all laugh til they cry. A welcome distraction for the coming last days of the season.

They stand on the start line before the feature race and Callum notices Mick looking at him. He gets chills at the icy cold stare that is sent his way. Well, that’ll be that then. He gives himself a metaphorical shake. Let’s do this.

After P10 in the sprint where Mick didn’t score, the chances of Callum winning the title have narrowed a bit. He just has to hope for a good few cars between him and Mick. That’s not so hard right?

But if anything he pushes too hard. The soft tyres are just a nightmare. He ends P5, typically Mick is his consistent self, right there behind him in P6, doing all he needs to do for the title. A 14 point gap separating the two. With the cameras watching Callum immediately congratulates Mick as soon as he gets out of the car.

Mick thanks him and Callum legs it to his driver’s room. Shortly afterwards Marcus comes to console him with the promise of a beer or seven back at the hotel. When he asks him why he’s not getting changed for the presentation. Callum asks “what presentation?”

“You idiot, they’re giving out the big prizes after the podium trophies. How could you not know that?” Callum can’t even answer that as he doesn’t know. He’s really not prepared, he doesn’t even have a shirt. For fuck sake!

“What am I gonna do?”, he asks Marcus  
“Don’t look at me, I was never gonna need to bring anything for that reason!” He knows realistically he may only have one option...Mick.  
“Why don’t you ask Mick?”, Marcus suggests. Yeah, he’s just not sure he can. Oh fuck!

“Come on man, I’ll come with you”, Marcus offers. “Err...I’ll go see him myself, that’s okay”, he says as his stomach sinks. “Are you guys okay? I know you two were quite close before...but things seem a bit off recently.”

Unsure whether to open that can of worms or not Callum looks up at Marcus, who gives him an odd look. “Oh God...you know! Don’t you?”, his head falls in his hands.

“You guys have been fucking about. Right?” Fuck everything and fuck Marcus for being an insightful little shit. “It’s actually been a bit more than that...or at least it has been...from my side” Marcus to his credit doesn’t bat an eyelid.

“Oh man...that sucks”, at least he sounds sympathetic and not totally disgusted. Callum emboldened by the lack of drama in his life for about 37 seconds decides he’s going to ask Mick for a loan of a shirt. He leaves his room with Marcus slapping him on the back “go get him tiger!”

Mick comes to the door half dressed. And fuck, he still takes Callum’s breath away. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a spare shirt? I didn’t realise...about the presentation.” Mick, to his credit only rolls his eyes a little and invites him in. Of course Mr Organised™️ has extra clothes for just this type of eventuality. He lets him pick between white or blue. Callum picks the blue one, because the white one will bring out the blue more in Mick’s eyes. Yeah, he’s still a soppy bastard.

As he goes to leave the room Mick tries to stop him, touching his arm.“Wait...please Callum...I need to explain”, he can hear the urgency in Mick’s voice. But he can’t do this right now. Not when he needs to go up there on the podium and smile back at the watching cameras. The last thing he needs is to let the world see him cry. They’ll probably think it’s because he’s such a bad loser. When that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Please Mick...I can’t...not right now.”  
“Oh...okay.” He feels like a total arsehole as he hears the disappointment in Mick’s voice. He takes his hand “after...okay?”  
Mick nods back with watery eyes, which makes Callum feel like shit. So he cups Mick’s face for a second before he leaves.

They receive their trophies shortly afterwards. During the interviews it all gets a bit intense with Callum saying he was glad if he couldn’t win that Mick did. He tried to push him all the way, but in the end Mick was just too good. He’s amazed he could say those words without his voice wavering.

Never to be outdone the champion says he’s happy for winning the title. Callum fought and pushed him hard. If he didn’t win he would’ve been happy for Callum. It sounds a bit like a declaration of love, but Callum is unsure.

Yeah, Callum needs this to be over. He’s a bit frightened he may jump Mick on stage. Hah! He laughs at the thought. Mick gives him a look like he’s thinking something similar. Just before they step down from the podium he whispers in Callum’s ear “I like you wearing my shirt! It looks good on you!” What Callum really wants to say is... it’ll look better on your bedroom floor. But he’s gonna keep that to himself. He’s got no game, remember?

Luckily, before things get out of hand, they’re asked to do photos for the waiting press. Callum waits by the side for Mick. He looks so good, he looks so happy. They’re driven back to the hotel where a small party is held in honour of the champion and vice champion. The two are thankful it doesn’t last long.

Mick lifts a bottle of champagne to take to his room with Callum in tow. Callum knows that Mick needs to talk so he waits.

“When I found out that it wasn’t you joining me next year I felt so sad. When I found out who was...I felt sick”. Callum takes his hand as he continues. “I nearly turned it down. I don’t want to work with him...But then I thought, Callum will never speak to me again if I turn down something that both of us have worked so hard for. At least one of us should be there!” Callum nods in agreement.

“I’m sorry I freaked out when you told me how you felt. I must’ve seemed so cold to you. I wanted to wait until the race was over, until the championship was over, before I told you. I didn’t want either of us being distracted. The truth in case you didn’t realise, is I love you.” Callum’s heart soars and his face lights up. “I’ve loved you for a while, I think. I’ve acted so very badly Callum. Please forgive me. “

Callum pulls Mick in towards him, burying his nose in his neck. They embrace lovingly for a short while before they pull back. “I love you”, Callum whispers. “And I love you too.” Mick kisses Callum, wet and sloppy.

That night Mick takes Callum apart soft and slow. They make love until both of their bodies are shaking with ecstasy. Names on each other’s lips. It’s pretty perfect. Callum then pulls Mick into his arms, spooning they fall asleep fast, legs entwined.

In the shower the next morning, Callum tells Mick that he came out to his mum. Mick smiles widely “good for you...was she okay with it?”, he asks. “She was amazing”, Callum beams. “Just like you then”, says his boyfriend (he guesses so). He hasn’t asked Mick, if he’s in or out with his family. He guesses he will tell him in his own time. He knows just how very difficult his future could be. So instead of asking he pulls him in for a quick kiss.

It’s still early-ish but Callum has to get back to his own room. They are saying their goodbyes at the door as Marcus walks past. He quickly clocks Callum holding his trophy, still in Mick’s shirt. “Hi kids!”, he says on his way to the lifts. An almighty grin on his face.

Callum’s face heats as he turns to Mick. “Oh shit...he knows.” Mick sounds panicked. “It’s okay...he’s on our side”, Callum says with a gentle whisper.

“You told him?”, Mick asks all anxious. Callum shakes his head, “it turns out we’re not as discreet as we think we are!”, he says fondly.

“Oh”, Mick sounds surprised but accepting. They finally part. In a way it’s not so bad, they’ll see each other very soon in Abu Dhabi. They’ll take things from there.

Callum has a test drive with the Charouz team a few days later blowing away cobwebs that barely had time to form. He has great fun feeling no pressure to perform, just having a program to get through.

He flys to Abu Dhabi and is getting settled in his room, when the door connecting him to next door opens. There is his boyfriend. Mick comes in and they embrace. Just as Callum starts pinning Mick to the mattress his phone goes.

It’s Mattia! What could he be wanting?

He listens and thinks he’s heard it right, but with the way his head is ringing in excitement he could be mistaken. He asks Mattia to say it again, please. Nope he’s heard the same thing again. It must be true! He gives Mattia his thanks and hangs up. He can’t stop smiling.

“What?...what was that? It’s killing me”, asks Mick. Callum seriously can’t wipe the grin off his face. “That was Mattia.” Mick’s eyes bulge in his head. “And?” Callum is loving this. “You’re looking at the new test driver for Ferrari! They’re gonna announce me tomorrow before the test.”

“Aaaaaarrrrrggghhh.”

Callum has never head a man scream like that before. As Mick leaps off the bed he jumps on to Callum and wraps his legs around his waist. Callum manages to catch him as he is kissed all over his face.

“Congratulations. My love. You deserve this so much.” There’s not a lump in Callum’s throat (There is). He cannot believe what has just happened. His face will be sore tomorrow with all the smiling. Look there goes his last fuck.

That night the two are able to share a bed thanks to Mr Organised™️. They sleep comfortably wrapped around one another.

The following day they both take part in the Young Driver Test. Callum for Alfa Romeo, Mick for Haas. There’s no feeling like an F1 car on the track. Callum’s just glad he’s got to do it at least once this year. Who knows what might happen next year?

One thing the young couple do know, is that Haas will have a base in the Ferrari factory. It means they may see a bit more of each other. Realistically Callum will be at the factory working I. the sim more than at actual physical races. But, Mick is looking to get a place nearby. He asked Callum to move in last night. He thought about it for 2 seconds before he said yes. Their future together is looking brighter. Here’s to 2021 being a better year!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping for comments, but kudos gives me life! ❤️


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